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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904881">Top Ten</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poutini/pseuds/Poutini'>Poutini</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Come as Lube, Do not read in public, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Shower Sex, Will write porn for poutine, it got tender, seriously it's just porn, shower pink Patrick, strongly worded emails, suction cup dildo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:53:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poutini/pseuds/Poutini</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during Seasons Four and Five, David helps Patrick learn to lean into his identity as a healthy, happy and horny as fuck gay man.</p><p>Working title was/is "Ten times Patrick came harder than the last" if that tells you anything about what, or who, is to come.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>401</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is unofficially dedicated to someone who I pester repeatedly to gift our fandom with more of her words.<br/>Who commiserates with me on the most finite and minute of issues, joins me in my petty moments, and is just generally a pretty great reason for me not to regret my foray into deeper fandom.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Patrick flopped beside David on the bed.  He felt incredible, coming off the high of an incredible orgasm at the literal hands of David Rose, and the marked success of giving his first blow job drying on his lips and chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s eyes were closed.  A small smile teased at his lips.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick reached out and tucked a few sweaty, loose hairs behind David’s ear, his touch causing David to slowly open his eyes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, how was that?” Patrick asked shyly.  “Was that ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David huffed out a laugh as he closed his eyes and sunk further into the bed.  “Top ten.  Easily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick blushed, but the shadow of doubt settled rapidly over him.  “Are you just saying that?  It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> a rookie blow job, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s eyes remained close, but his lips curved into a satisfied smile.  “Mmmhmm.  And what a debut. So good. What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick curled up against David’s freckled shoulder.  “I’d say I’m working with too small of a sample size of actual satisfying orgasms to be able to fairly assess, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s dimples popped, though his eyes remained closed, lashes brushing his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, we’re just gonna have to make sure you have sufficient data to draw from then,” he murmured, turning to nuzzle against Patrick’s hair, as Patrick pressed kisses to David’s soft skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, David,” Patrick laughed softly.  “I’ll start the spreadsheet.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I <b> know </b> this is a tease!  I'm sorry!<br/>My plan was to write today, and then I spent several hours staving off a panic attack and in survival mode.<br/>I promise to provide you with <i> at least </i> one smutty chapter within the next 24 hours.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After several frustrating hours manipulating columns and formulae, and many futile google searches, Patrick resigned himself to the fact that Microsoft Excel was, for the first time ever, letting him down.  Given the complexity of the data he intended to collect, he needed to build a fucking Microsoft Access database <em>*shudder*</em>, and well, there was no way in hell he was acquiescing to that monstrosity of nearly obsolete code. Patrick decided to click ‘discard’ rather than ‘send’ his scathing feedback along to the Microsoft Corporation about the inutility of Microsoft Excel when it came to the tracking and ranking of sexual activity, and simplify the process to a ranked list in his notes app. </p><p>He titled it “Top Ten”, and enumerated the list from one to ten along the left hand side, ensuring it was ready for updating. </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for all the supportive comments yesterday!</p><p>I hope this is worth the wait!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So,” David murmured in between gentle nibbles on Patrick’s ear lobe.  “What do you say we start building that list?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick couldn’t move.  Literally.  David had him pinned up against the wall in the back room of the Rose Apothecary.  The few functioning brain cells he had were sending clear messages to tip his head back, granting David easier access to his neck, and to use his grip on David’s hips to pull their lower bodies flush together.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were </span>
  <em>
    <span>too many</span>
  </em>
  <span> layers of fabric separating them.  Patrick needed his hands on David’s skin.  He rucked up David’s sweater, running his hands up his sides, raking his nails on the way back down.  He swallowed David’s gasp as his back arched into Patrick’s touch, and Patrick felt goosebumps pebble David’s soft skin as his hands ran up his sides again.  David’s mouth moved from Patrick’s lips down his neck.  He pulled Patrick’s sweater off centre, baring the sensitive skin of Patrick’s collarbone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The gentle nip of David’s teeth, trailed by the scrape of his stubble, was driving Patrick wild.  He’d never, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>, felt such urgency...such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his gut...making him tug desperately at David’s sweater, pulling it up and over his head, his eyes lingering on David’s naked chest as he pawed helplessly at David’s complicated pants, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needing</span>
  </em>
  <span> them off, </span>
  <em>
    <span>off, </span>
  </em>
  <b>off. </b>
  <span>Now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David took a step back, undoing and dropping his pants easily, before moving back to press Patrick against the wall.  Patrick groaned as David’s hands sought the warmth of Patrick’s skin under his sweater, drawing it up and off and tossing it carelessly aside.  David deftly undid Patrick’s Levis, but, with a glint in his eyes, began kissing, licking, nibbling, suckling his way down Patrick’s sternum, his belly and below, before his hands finally started to lower Patrick’s jeans, and hell, his boxers may as well go, too.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David sank to his knees, helping Patrick kick off his bottoms, completely ignoring Patrick’s throbbing and impressive erection literally right in front of his face.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick knew David </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Patrick wanted.  But David wasn’t giving it to him.  Instead, he continued kissing, licking, nibbling, and suckling at the crease of Patrick’s thigh, the meat of his inner leg, up and around the outline of his cock, but never, never actually touching the achingly hard and increasingly desperate erection bouncing in front of his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick thunked his head against the wall.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>David, pleaaaaaaase</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he whined plaintively.  The longer David waited, the more Patrick feared he would explode the second David laid so much as a finger on him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s hands ran soothingly up the outside of Patrick’s thighs, coming to rest on his hip bones.  He pressed Patrick back, holding him in place, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Patrick really liked the feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>resistance</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now.  Something he’d never felt with any of the women he’d been with, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the strength of David’s hands keeping him against the wall was just really, really working for him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David laughed softly, the puff of breath against Patrick’s thigh, and well, Patrick supposed he probably said that part out loud.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, David took Patrick in his mouth.  He didn’t do much.  Just held him there, his tongue mapping out the ridges of veins as if memorizing routes up and down, left and right, noting the sounds and twitches and shudders each landmark produced.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick held on.  He didn’t want this to end so soon.  He ran his hand through David’s hair, tugging lightly until David looked up, and smiled the best he could with his lips stretched around Patrick’s cock.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, David was a vision and Patrick couldn’t look away.  Not until David moved his right hand to take a feather light grip around the base of Patrick’s cock, and slowly, with nearly no pressure, slide up and down a couple inches.  Just enough to bump up against his own lips, that were still wrapped around Patrick’s cock, tongue still wayfinding.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike with the women he’d been with, Patrick didn’t have to work, or concentrate, for his release.  No, it hit him unexpectedly.  Like a fucking freight train.  David’s left hand continued to hold him steady as his entire body seized, and he felt himself pulse, and pulse, and pulse into David’s mouth.  Everything went fuzzy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, the world around him resolved.  David stood, shyly wiping the corners of his mouth.  Patrick pulled him in for a bruising kiss.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm!” David hummed against his lips.  “Top ten?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Number fucking one,” Patrick growled, reaching to draw down David’s underwear, eager to return the favour.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patrick came back from the bathroom to find David peeking one eye out from underneath the duvet.</p><p>“Hi,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to David’s temple.  </p><p>David made an adorable snuffling sound, burrowing deeper into the blankets.  </p><p>Patrick wrapped one arm around David’s shoulder, pulling him close.  He nuzzled the crown of David’s head.</p><p>David pressed himself as close to Patrick as he possibly could, seeking warmth, hoping for a return to sleep, or maybe...</p><p>Patrick felt David slip from his grip, maneuvering lower and lower under the blankets.  He heard a muffled “is this ok?” as David tugged on his underwear, and Patrick assured him with a gentle caress, and a soft “yes”, that it was.  And then Patrick felt David take his soft cock into his mouth, burying him until David’s nose hit Patrick’s belly.  </p><p>Patrick <em> loved </em> this.  The feeling of growing hard inside David’s mouth.  Filling David’s mouth, feeling David adjust as his length grew uncomfortable and difficult to accommodate, hearing the keening moan, <em> feeling </em> the keening moan, as David reacted to each pulse of growth.  </p><p>Patrick felt David pull back, just enough to be able to wrap his hand around the base of Patrick’s cock, holding him in place, as his tongue crawled slowly up the underside, tracing along the lines below the head.  David’s free hand tucked into Patrick’s thigh crease, his thumb absentmindedly drawing up and down his perineum.  </p><p>Patrick couldn’t stand not seeing David anymore.  He threw back the covers, his fingers immediately tangling themselves in David’s soft, messy hair.  David looked up at him with half-lidded eyes.  With a long drag of his tongue, he pulled off of Patrick.  </p><p>“Good morning, honey!” he giggled, pressing a kiss to Patrick’s thigh, and stroking him a few times.  </p><p>With a groan, Patrick’s head flopped back to the pillow.  </p><p>David’s thumb moved suggestively lower on Patrick’s perineum.  Patrick widened his legs, and planted one foot on the bed, his pelvis moving in time with David’s touch, seeking more, seeking lower.  </p><p>“Yeah?” David asked breathlessly, giving Patrick what he wanted, his thumb dipping into the crack of his ass.</p><p>Patrick let out a slow exhale, ending on a whine that sounded enough like <em> yessssss </em> for David to reach over and open the drawer on the bedside table to grab the small bottle of lube he knew was there.  </p><p>Patrick shifted impatiently.  Unconsciously, his hand drifted down to his erection, slowly jacking it a few times before David returned to between his legs and swatted it away, replacing it with his own hand.  “Mmmm mmmm,” he soothed, placing kisses on Patrick’s upper leg as he stroked him. </p><p>Patrick heard the <em> snick </em>of the open and close of a cap, and then the cool slide of David’s fingers up and down his perineum.  He groaned, shifting to press against David’s fingers, impatient now for what was next.</p><p>David’s thumb skimmed against Patrick’s hole, and Patrick let out a noise that should have been embarrassing, but the respondent growl from David erased any possibility of Patrick feeling self conscious in that moment.  With a couple quick swipes to spread the lube, David adjusted his hand so that his index finger was now dancing circles around Patrick’s rim, and the sensation and the anticipation were driving Patrick absolutely wild.  </p><p>When David’s index finger finally breached him, Patrick inhaled sharply with the sensation.  He’d tried this a few times in the shower, but <em> holy fuck </em> , the angle had been all wrong, and David, David was working his finger in and out, and <em> jesus, </em> he just added a second finger and every nerve ending inside Patrick was on <em> fucking fire </em>.  </p><p>His hips moved of their own volition, chasing nothing but pleasure.  Distantly, Patrick could hear sounds, but he wasn’t sure if they were his own, or coming from somewhere else.  </p><p>David built up a rhythm, driving into Patrick and <em> oh god </em> now he was narrating what he wanted to do to Patrick, and <em> oh god </em> , Patrick wanted that so, so badly.  David added a third finger, slowing down his thrusts, and <em> fuck </em> , angling slightly up caused a sensation Patrick had never felt before.  Urgency, desperate urgency, <em> for something </em> , just <em> more.  More David, David, David </em>.</p><p>David stopped talking, only because his mouth was now back on Patrick, and Patrick had no idea how David was playing him with both hands, and his mouth, and <em> oh my god, </em>he was going to come so hard and - </p><p>the world went white.  And silent.  Maybe.  Again, that distant voice seemed to be crying out, sounds that maybe sounded a lot like David’s name, but really just sounded like the sobs and wails of overwhelming pleasure.  </p><p>Eventually, Patrick managed to open one eye.  He found David up on his elbow next to him, watching him closely.  “Are you ok?” he asked with a smirk and a gleam in his eyes.</p><p>Patrick could only only laugh, close his eyes, and sink back into the bed.</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Patrick could not stop thinking about David’s hands.  Or rather, what those hands could do, and how they made him feel over and over again.  Even the most innocent of touches - a gentle palm to the small of Patrick’s back, or those just meant to tease - David’s fingertips dancing on Patrick’s shoulders as he vetoed Patrick’s movie choice, or when David was actually trying to drive Patrick wild - his index finger tracing the veins on the sensitive skin on the back of Patrick’s hand - made Patrick’s belly surge with desire.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring </span>
  </em>
  <span>at David’s hands either.  His meticulously groomed cuticles, free from hangnails. His nails rounded and even.  His skin, exquisitely soft.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick knew David noticed this new found fascination.  And well, he just didn’t care.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ray was out.  Patrick remembered Ray telling him why, but now that he was pressed up against David, naked from the waist up, under the covers, he couldn’t quite recall and well, he didn’t care much about that either.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” David hummed against Patrick’s cheek, “you, uh, really liked that, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick felt the flush rise up his neck and to the tips of his ears.  He wasn’t used to candid conversation about sex.  Or at least, the positive, forward-thinking sort.   He took a deep breath, and let out a barely audible “yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm,” David nodded, his stubble scraping slightly against Patrick’s skin.  “Do you think you might like to do that...to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s brain went momentarily offline.  Yep, he’d thought about this.  Hell, he’d thought about a lot more than that.  Was he ready for that?  He didn’t really know what he was doing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David huffed out the gentlest of laughs.  “Well, practice makes perfect then,” and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Patrick really needed to get a handle on his inner monologue that kept slipping out.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick surged forward, kissing David hard.  He pushed David onto his back and began to undo David’s mercifully simple jeans.  David helped shuck his bottoms.  “Is that a yes?” he asked, reaching to pull Patrick’s sweats off.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick growled an affirmation, as he came to straddle David’s thighs.  He ran his hands through David’s silky chest hair, gently pinching and rolling his nipples as his hands moved further down David’s body.  Patrick could feel and hear David’s breath quickening.   He felt David buck his hips, seeking the friction of Patrick’s body against his.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, Patrick moved between David’s legs.  He held David’s cock in one hand, and licked a strip up the underside, going back and forth a few times on the sensitive patch of skin near the bottom of the head.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he loved the sounds David made.  Patrick stroked him slowly, David’s cries of </span>
  <em>
    <span>ah ahhh ahhhhhhhhh</span>
  </em>
  <span> becoming increasingly more desperate.  He held the first third of David’s cock in his mouth, his tongue swirling where he knew David liked it, while he kept a slow rhythm with his hand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David passed him the lube.  Patrick sat back on his heels, and coated his index finger, just as David had done.  David braced both feet on the bed, and he shimmied in anticipation, dimples popping as he watched Patrick intently.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick reached between David’s cheeks, finding his entrance.  He took a moment to appreciate the puckered skin, twitching underneath his touch, before pressing in bit by bit.  David groaned as Patrick slid his finger in as far as he could.  It was hotter than he would have predicted, and so tight.  He fucked David a few times with one finger, before adding a second and exploring the smooth tissue inside him further.  Patrick crooked his fingers up, not really sure what he was searching for, but pretty confident that when he felt the walnut size protrusion that made David gasp, he had found it.  He pressed David’s prostate gently, brushing his fingertips over it lightly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More!” David cried out, shifting his hips left and right, seeking more of anything Patrick was willing to give.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick pulled out and added enough lube to coat three fingers.  As he entered David again, he leaned in to take David’s cock in his mouth.  But despite playing several musical instruments, requiring independence of each hand and his mouth, he struggled to find coordination.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David tapped him on the shoulder softly, and when Patrick popped off his cock and pulled back, David took himself in his hand and started to stroke slowly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Words were difficult.  But he managed to get the message across that Patrick should keep fucking him with his fingers while he jacked himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The vision of his fingers inside David, fucking in and out, his tight heat clenching with each thrust, and tightening as David’s orgasm neared was unbearable for Patrick.  With his free hand, he finally reached down and grabbed his own erection, pulling furiously as he kept working David.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grip on his fingers as David came, and the instant flash-forward to a time when that pressure would be applied on another part of his body, and the heaving sobs escaping David’s mouth, were enough to send Patrick over the edge.  With one hand on his own cock, and three fingers buried in David, Patrick once again achieved a new personal best.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure how it could get much better than this.  It might actually kill him, but what a way to go.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was Patrick’s day off.  He’d spent the day flailing about a bit aimlessly, counting down the minutes until he could text David without the guilt of interrupting him at work.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By 4:45, everything was clean, lunches for the week were packed, and he’d caught up on the latest episode of Deadliest Catch.  He opened his laptop to distract himself with the store’s quarterly report and, oh.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He didn’t bring home his USB key with the necessary files.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He supposed he could make a quick trip to the store, since it was so close to the end of the business day, and he really couldn’t work on the reports without his USB key.  Yeah, that was it.  It had nothing to do with a gnawing desperation to see his boyfriend.  Nope.  And yeah, he could just download the documents he needed from their online POS software, but you know.  Cyber-security and all that.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped on his </span>
  <em>
    <span>mountaineering shoes</span>
  </em>
  <span> and headed out.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights were off, the door was locked, and the sign was flipped to CLOSED.  Patrick let himself in, re-locking the door behind, and called out to David.  No reply.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inventory had been restocked, and the floors swept, so there appeared to be no signs of a struggle that would explain where David was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick headed towards the stock room, his footfall quiet on the wooden floor, until a board squeaked, and a subsequent </span>
  <em>
    <span>FUCK</span>
  </em>
  <span> and scramble could be heard from behind the curtain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back the curtain with a tad of trepidation.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There stood David, fumbling to pull his pants up, beads of sweat on his forehead, and a rosy blush on his cheeks.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick covered his mouth to keep from laughing.  “David,” he admonished.  “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David gesticulated wildly, as though it should have been obvious what he was doing.  And it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick couldn’t choke back the laughter bubbling out of him.  He pressed a quick kiss to David’s flushed cheek, and took a seat on the couch.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“By all means,” he said with a flourish, “don’t stop on account of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s gaze bore a fiery hole in Patrick, as he considered his next steps.  “Fine,” he gritted out, tugging his pants back down, freeing his flagging erection.  Patrick watched as he took himself in hand again, this time, bracing his free hand against the desk.  His strokes started slow, but built quickly to a rhythm that meant business.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick watched.  His own pants becoming uncomfortable.  He shifted left to right, adjusting himself slightly, as David jacked himself over the desk.  It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbearably hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> but also just </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbearable.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick finally gave in, popping open his jeans, and pulling them down just enough to be able to grasp the base of his throbbing cock.  With the sight in front of him, he knew this could be over quick if he didn’t go slow.  So he opted to keep eye contact with David as he stroked himself slowly.  David gasped when he saw Patrick start to masturbate in front of him.  His breaths became heaves and gulps as the force of his orgasm overtook him, the mess being caught by his hand that had pulled off of the desk.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit, David</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Patrick muttered, picking up the pace of his strokes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David closed the distance between them in two steps, and knelt between Patrick’s knees.  Patrick dropped his cock, and David’s come-covered hand replaced it.  Patrick groaned with the contact, with the slick slide, his brain overloaded at exactly why it was so slippery.  He came with a bitten off cry as David nipped at his lower lip, and kissed him deeply.  </span>
</p><p><span>“</span><em><span>What the </span></em><b><em>fuck</em></b> <span>was that?” Patrick squeaked out.  </span></p><p>
  <span>“Top of the leaderboard, I’d say,” David replied with a wink as he headed to the bathroom to clean himself up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>David flopped on the couch next to Patrick with a satisfied sigh.</p><p>“Didn’t you hear me?” Patrick asked.</p><p>David scrunched his eyes closed. “Ummm, no...I guess I was a little...distracted.”</p><p>Patrick hummed an acknowledgment but said nothing more, waiting patiently for David to continue.</p><p>“I was...thinking about you,” he finally continued, his voice low.</p><p>Patrick took David’s clean hand in his own. “Oh?” he asked, rubbing soothing circles on his palm.</p><p>David blushed. “Mmhmm. About things...I want you to do...to me.”</p><p>Patrick felt his dick twitch. “Like what?”</p><p>David finally opened his eyes. Dark pupils stared into Patrick’s honey brown eyes. “Why don’t we go get cleaned up at your place, and I’ll show you?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Bonus points if you can identify which part made me actually laugh out loud writing it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Patrick had barely closed the door to his bedroom and David was already pulling lube and a small black velvet drawstring sac out of his overnight bag.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Patrick asked curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David opened the sac and pulled out an intimidatingly thick dildo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick reddened.  “Oh.  David.  I don’t think I’m read - “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David bit his lower lip, shook his head shyly, a blush of his own blossoming under his 5 o’clock shadow.  “When I use this, I imagine it’s you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.  Oh wow. God, Patrick wanted that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>David handed him the lube and started stripping.  He grabbed a towel from the clean laundry piled in the hamper and spread it out on the bed before spreading </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> out on the bed expectantly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick scampered to catch up.  He settled between David’s legs, caressing his thighs gently.  His lips found the crease of David’s thighs and wasted no time in moving on to lick at the head of his cock.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed as David shimmied impatiently underneath him.  “Get me ready, honey,” he breathed.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick took his time working one, two and then three fingers into David.  He loved the way David moved with him, or against him.  And the sounds that David made.  Well, suffice to say, Patrick had never received such high praise for his work in the bedroom.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he felt David was ready, he reached for the toy, but was stopped by David.  He tiled his head quizzically.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David held his wrist as he scooted off the bed, pulling Patrick towards the ensuite bathroom, but grabbing the dildo and the lube with his free hand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He led Patrick right into the shower, and before turning it on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>schwacked!</span>
  </em>
  <span> the suction cup of the dildo onto the tile, a little below waist height.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick watched transfixed as David backed himself up, the dildo stretching him as it disappeared slowly inside.  The smile on David’s face growing as the depth increased.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly started to fuck himself on the toy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick moved closer, needing to touch.  He ran a hand through David’s hair, now fully soaked and plastered against his head.  He tugged gently, and David arched his upper body into it, letting out a load groan.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David reached out, gripping Patrick’s hips and pulling him closer.  Close enough that he could finally wrap his lips around Patrick’s cock.  Both the sensation and the visual as David fucked back onto the dildo and forward onto Patrick’s erection were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so, so much</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Patrick didn’t want it to end quite yet, and that was a very real and credible threat with the overload happening in every nerve in his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“David!”  he gasped.  “Oh god.  I want - “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David thrust back hard, pulling Patrick with him, Patrick’s cock hitting the back of his throat and momentarily halting all ability for Patrick to think anything close to clearly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want that….I want you...to do that...to me too,” he choked out finally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David stopped all movement.  He stood up, changing the angle of the dildo, but keeping it inside.  Moving his hands to Patrick’s shoulders, he turned him around and pulled Patrick’s back against his chest.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick felt David rub some lube in between his thighs and for a brief moment, he wondered what David had in mind.  But then David’s cock slid between his legs, bumping against his perineum.  Patrick tightened his stance and David resumed thrusting forwards and back.  This time, one of David’s hands wrapped over Patrick’s shoulder, his hand over his rabbiting heart, and the other, draping over his hip bone, grasping Patrick’s cock.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David was a masterful metronome, fucking himself, fucking Patrick’s thighs and stroking him in time.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long before David was coming, and the hot spurt up against Patrick’s balls made him jump, pushing him over the edge.  He came over David’s fist, waves of pleasure that seemed to never end.  David gently stroked him through each aftershock, finally slipping off the dildo, and refocusing to clean them both off.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David kissed Patrick tenderly.  “Did you mean it?” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nodded.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s tongue swiped across Patrick’s lower lip.  “Might need a new list,” he murmured as he nipped Patrick’s lip and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>OK, WARNING:  If you are IN PUBLIC, maybe this is not the best time to read this chapter.</p><p>YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.</p><p>I cannot be held responsible for your choices.</p><p>Also, thank you for reading and I love your comments.  They crack me up.  I've also never received so many fire emoji comments and so that's fun.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ray and David were well into Bridget Jones’ Diary by the time Patrick arrived home from his baseball game.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bent over the back of the couch to give David a quick kiss.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm!  Salty,” David laughed, pulling back and licking his lips.  He turned back to the movie. “Try again after you shower, number 12.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick emerged from the steamy bathroom to find David sitting on the edge of his bed, scrolling on his phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Movie done?”  he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ray got a call. Some closet organization emergency in Elmdale,” David replied without looking up.  He tapped twice more on his screen before tossing his phone on the bed.  Patrick watched as David’s gaze landed on him - clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp and sticking up in a hundred directions, and his skin pink and warm.  David’s jaw dropped, and he was up and off the bed and moving towards Patrick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick felt David’s hands, cool to the touch, on his hips.  David drew him in, humming contentedly as their lips moved together in a long and lush kiss.  Needing air, David pulled back slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmm.  You look - “</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick nipped at David’s lower lip.  “Like what?” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David ran his tongue along the seam of Patrick’s lips, before spearing it between and taking a quick swipe of his top teeth.  “Good enough to eat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick stilled. “Yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David tugged at Patrick’s towel, letting it fall to the floor.  His hands moved from Patrick’s hips to his shoulders, as he turned him and moved him towards the bed.  The haze of desire washed over Patrick as David had him brace his hands on the bed, and take a step back.  David knelt behind him, and spread Patrick’s cheeks. He was pretty sure what was about to happen, but - </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s tongue.  That talented tongue was dancing delicately along Patrick’s rim.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In a brief moment of lucidity, Patrick mentally thanked whoever was suffering through the closet organization nightmare that had taken Ray out of the house, because David’s tongue teasing along his hole was causing him to make noises he never knew he could make.  He couldn’t even pause to be embarrassed by it, because David had now moved on, and was dipping his tongue </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside</span>
  </em>
  <span> and just the thought of what was happening was nearly enough to push Patrick over the edge.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nearly</span>
  </em>
  <span> enough.  Precisely enough was when David moved one hand to wrap around Patrick, and stroke him the way he had so quickly learned Patrick liked.  With his other hand, David kept space for his tongue to drive Patrick wild.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David’s hot breath against his skin, his tongue gently but insistently working on Patrick’s most private of spaces, and the rhythm on his cock launched Patrick into a white-hot searing abyss.  He’d later have no recollection of choking out David’s name, or of the gulping, gasping breaths as his body seized over and over, but David would remind him, with a self-satisfied smile on his face.  </span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is a POV switch part way through, indicated by ///.</p><p>It's a tender sort of day, today.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Patrick stopped updating his list after each hand job, or blow job, with or without David’s magical fingers and or tongue in his ass, because the reality is that the list of top ten, top twenty, hell the Billboard Top 100, was just always going to be filled with David, David, David.  And so the note began to feel a little less important as a mechanism for ranking, and a little more like a fun way for Patrick to note milestones in their physical relationship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as he laid on the comfy queen bed, sated, flushed, his breathing slowly returning to normal, waiting for David to return from the bathroom, he thought to update it to mark the first time he’d penetrated David with something other than a toy, or fingers.  It felt...anti-climactic, to record it solely in an app on his phone.  He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, sky-write it from a plane, discover a new species of insect and name it after today’s milestone.  He was sure he’d do at least one of those things...just as soon...as…he...had a...little...nap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>///</span>
</p><p>
  <span>David returned from the bathroom to find Patrick fast asleep, peaceful and splayed out on the hotel bed.  His face slack, the smallest of snores slipping out, one hand across his abdomen, the other arm cantilevered off the side of the bed, barely holding on to his phone.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sight made David’s heart skip a beat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rescued Patrick’s phone, and walked over to his side of the bed to plug it in.  His own name on the unlocked screen caught his eye, and his lips quirked into a sideways smile when he read the note.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d come so far since that first night, tucked away in Patrick’s bed at Ray’s.  David had witnessed the renovation of Patrick’s identity as someone who did, in fact, enjoy sex, very much, thank you.  He’d seen his confidence exponentially grow since that first messy, yet obviously effective, blow job, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>David had never had so much fun in the bedroom (er, stockroom, etc), nor had he ever been the subject of the attentions of a partner so focused on reciprocity.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mmmhmm</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  Focused.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David shivered, thinking back to just an hour prior.  How Patrick had been so attentive - pressing kisses everywhere his lips could reach, as he tenderly but enthusiastically fingered David open.  How he gently ran his hands down David’s sides as he maneuvered himself between David’s legs, before donning a condom and lining himself up.  And the fondness in his eyes, as he slowly pressed inside.  Oh, and the way his face contorted as he adjusted to the heat and pressure of his first time inside a man.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, that was pretty great, too</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David slid carefully under the covers and curled up against Patrick’s side, kissing the small splatter of freckles on his shoulder.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Patrick shift.  “Sorry, honey.  Go back to sleep,” he murmured against Patrick’s unfairly flawless skin.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick mumbled something as he turned over onto his side.  David spooned behind him, wrapping an arm over his waist.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>S’sleepy</em>,” Patrick managed to make coherent.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmmhmm.  You werewolfed on me,” David replied, nuzzling into Patrick’s unfairly soft hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Men after sex.  Like werewolves.  Coming back to life, cold, naked and sleepy.” David chuckled, pulling Patrick closer to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s laugh was muffled by the covers he had tugged up over his shoulders.  “Goodnight, David.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Patrick,” David whispered.  </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The origin of "werewolfing" is <a href="http://www.depressedalien.com/110">here</a>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The box arrived at the store on David’s day off.  It was a little too small to be product for inventory, and it was addressed to Patrick, rather than David, which raised some suspicion immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick texted David a picture of the box.  “Any idea what this is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Patrick’s phone rings with an incoming FaceTime call.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hi, honey!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>              Hi, David. How’s your day off?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fine.  Did you open the box?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>             No.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are there any customers in the store?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>             Obviously not, if I’m answering a FaceTime call.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Open it.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Patrick opened the box.  He pulled out a black and red box, with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>curious</span>
  </em>
  <span> picture on the front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He immediately felt a flush rise right up to the tips of his ears.  Before he could ask any additional questions, David started explaining, at a rapid clip.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Um, so it’s pretty self-explanatory, but I keep thinking about that night in the shower, and what you said you, uh, wanted me to do to you, and I thought maybe you’d like to...explore?  that further a bit?  I won’t be offended if you don’t want to...not everyone does...and I really like you topping me, and…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped when he saw the smile on Patrick’s face.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>              Thank you, David.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ok, but it might not be a thing for you.  It isn’t for everyone.  And I know it felt pretty good that one time, but there’s technique, and timing, and…really, I won’t be upset if it’s not for you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bell rang above the door, interrupting their conversation.  Patrick nodded to David, cutting the call, and greeted the customers.  Fortunately, they didn’t require immediate assistance because Patrick really just needed to stay behind the counter for a few minutes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Patrick pulled up to Ray’s house, Ray’s SUV was gone.  A note left on the counter invited Patrick to eat the leftover pad thai in the fridge, and let him know that Ray wouldn’t be back until later on in the evening.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Great</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick headed upstairs with this black and red box, closed his bedroom door, and immediately shucked his clothing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He read the instructions.  What to insert and where, and what to do once it’s in there.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the lube, sat on the bed, and slowly slid the larger end into himself as he adjusted the smaller tip against his perineum. He turned it on to the lowest setting.  He clenched a few times, and well, everything felt comfortable enough, so he laid back against his pillows and closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The instructions said to relax.  He took a few deep breaths, letting go of the frustrations of the day.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They said to try clenching.  Clenching and holding.  Patrick tried it a couple of times.  That felt...</span>
  <em>
    <span>nice.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He tried again, this time rocking forward a bit as the manual had recommended, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  There was something.  He did the same and felt the pressure mounting in his pelvis.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The manual had suggested not being so goal-oriented.  Not rushing towards the finish, so to speak, so he relaxed again, and leaned back against the pillows.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind wandered.  And obviously, like it had </span>
  <em>
    <span>every free moment</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the last four and a half months, it drifted to David.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a fucking gift</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that he got to spend nearly every day with David.  And that he could kiss and touch him as much as he wanted.  Never had casual affection been such a </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his life, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with David, it was like needing air to breathe.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about David’s hands, and how warm they were as they skimmed across Patrick’s skin.  He clenched again, held it for a couple seconds, rocked forward, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god</span>
  </em>
  <span>.  He was tempted to reach down and wrap a hand around his cock, but the manual had said not to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about David’s mouth.  Capable of dealing the sassiest of sass, the tenderest of kisses, and then absolutely laying Patrick to waste making him come down David’s throat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clench.  Hold. Holy fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s legs began to shake.  He felt like he had no control over the motion.  He tried to relax, but the pressure on his perineum, and where the device was pressing inside, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>intense.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about the night he finally penetrated David.  How fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was.  His previous experience had been lacklustre for so many reasons, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, being inside David was heaven. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clench.  Hold.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The shaking moved up Patrick’s body.  He felt wetness where his half-erect cock lay across his stomach.  Waves of pleasure starting washing up and over him.  It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and yet </span>
  <em>
    <span>not enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the same time, and he needed more.  He needed to touch himself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrapped a hand around his cock, and slowly started jacking himself.  He tried to time a small rocking motion with his strokes.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about David.  How David would look above him, slowly pressing inside.  How it would feel to have the slick slide of David’s cock inside of him.  How David would look from as he came inside Patrick for the first time.  Hell, for the fiftieth time.  Patrick didn’t think it would ever lessen in intensity.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought about how David would grip him, making sure he came while David was buried to the hilt, thrusting against </span>
  <em>
    <span>that spot</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Patrick started coming over his fist, his legs still shaking uncontrollably, his pelvis jumping off the bed, every nerve ending in his mid-section lit up like a Christmas tree.  His orgasm seemed to go on forever, long after he’d finished spilling over himself.   The spasms eventually slowed, and he carefully extracted the toy and placed it on tissue on the nightstand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing his phone, he texted David.  </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>                    Wow.  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>
      
    </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. An interlude.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Patrick's email to the Microsoft Corporation, by popular* demand.</p><p>*a few people asked, ok?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Listen.</p><p>This week has been absolute bullshit.</p><p>So, this happened.  And you should probably know that this took no work at all, because what you got here was legitimately, actually, for real how Poutini writes at work.  It's no wonder I am wildly popular, yes?</p><p>I have a pair of socks that says "Dealing with me must be fun" and well, my friends, you can make friends or you can make a difference, and sometimes those two things aren't compatible. (Another pair of socks says "busy making a fucking difference" and also, sometimes, RBG is on my socks.)</p><p>Enjoy your glimpse into the *other* part of my brain.  And then back away slooooooowly before you're trapped forever.  Or stay.  Did you bring beer?  How about chips and dip?  Cheese and pickles?  Wanna snuggle?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dear Microsoft Corporation,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have been a faithful Microsoft Office user since 1997.  Even when I transitioned my digital infrastructure from PC to Macintosh in the early 2000s, I remained patient as Microsoft ironed out the binary wrinkles of functionality on the Mac platform.  However, today, I am writing to express my deep disappointment in your product as it pertains to a recent project.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Recently, I undertook to create and curate a small, but critical, database of data that would ultimately, upon completion of collection, be subject to multivariate analysis.  Though my schematic diagram would have led me to believe otherwise, I simply could not work within the parameters of the software.  The only solution, it seemed, was to build an Access database.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the point at which I found at myself at the precipice of forcing a square peg into a round hole and manipulating this practically prehistoric program, I knew I had reached my limit.  This solution was simply untenable given the obsolescence of the coding within the product, and my needs were no longer able to be met by the Office suite.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On a go forward basis, I will be relying upon the iWork Suite.  Not only does it work seamlessly with all of our cloud-based services and multiple Apple devices, it offers extensions that will provide me with the agile data analysis I require on a day-to-day basis.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My partner has always called me the “Numbers” guy, and as I say ‘farewell’ to Excel, that becomes just a little more true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick Brewer, MBA</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Co-owner, Rose Apothecary (he/his)</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Whew!</p><p>Well.  </p><p>What a week.</p><p>Ya Potato had to get a COVID test this week, and well, that was UNPLEASANT.  Came back NEGATIVE.  PHEW.<br/>But kinda knocked out my motivation for a few days.  </p><p>Thanks for reading!  Wear a mask!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The blunt pressure gives way as David slowly breaches Patrick, slipping just the head inside.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t so much as blink as he pressed into Patrick, for fear that he might miss a sign of discomfort, or worse, regret.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David paused.  He had a steady grip on the back of Parick’s thighs, folding him comfortably in half.  He couldn’t reach Patrick’s lips, but he could plant soft kisses up Patrick’s shin.  “Ok?” he whispered against the sensitive skin on the inside of his ankle.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick drew his bottom lip between his teeth and nodded, his eyes bright and fond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a few strokes, and with great restraint, David pulled back and slid back in just a tiny bit further each time.  Patrick’s heels had come to rest over his shoulders and they started to tug him closer with each thrust.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a little bit more lube, David finally drove all the way in, his pelvis flush with Patrick’s.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David felt Patrick shift underneath him.  He felt Patrick’s hand reach between them to feel where they were joined.  He groaned when Patrick clenched experimentally, tightening the already vise-like grip on David’s cock.  He watched as Patrick’s eyes widened when an arch of his back changed the angle of David’s cock inside him, rubbing up against that sensitive spot.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David waited patiently while Patrick explored this new sensation.  Finally, Patrick’s hands came to rest on the outside of David’s knees, and his eyes once again locked with David’s.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David started to thrust carefully.  Just a little out, and all the way back in.  Not too fast.  Not too hard.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little further out, and all the way back in.  A little faster, and a little harder.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little more lube, a longer draw out, and a drive back in.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patrick’s breath had quickened, his skin was flushed, and a wide smile spread across his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, David!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he gasped.  “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Harder.  Fuck...me...harder.  M’not...gonna...break.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>David snapped his hips against Patrick’s pelvis.  He picked up the pace, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.  Each thrust punching sounds of pleasure from Patrick.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>David hitched Patrick higher onto his thighs and continued to drive into him.   He praised Patrick, called him beautiful, and perfect, over and over, as his lips ghosted over Patrick’s skin.  His words were met with louder, keening moans from below.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as Patrick took himself in hand and started to stroke in time with David’s movements.  When David thought Patrick was getting too close, he swatted his hand away.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me first,” he chided gently.  “Trust me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon, David tipped over the edge, his body stuttering against Patrick’s.  As his body trembled with aftershocks, David reached out, wrapping his soft hand around Patrick’s cock, stroking and twisting with just enough pressure to drive him to the brink, and nudge him off the cliff.  He watched as Patrick came with a cock in his ass for the first time, his eyes scrunched closed, barely able to make a sound as he clenched repeatedly on David’s over-sensitive cock.  And David couldn’t look away, even as he pulled out slowly, and Patrick opened his eyes, a sex-drunk smile on his face.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, post-clean up, post-snacks, and post-note-app update, they laid in bed, legs tangled together.  David, overwhelmed with Patrick’s rave reviews of this new experience and effusive appreciation, and Patrick, sated and happy.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, that, dear reader, is the story of Patrick’s top ten.  But we know it doesn’t end here.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We know there’s much more to come.  Double entendre fully intended.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We know there would be make-up sex, and bang-it-out-because-you’re-frustrated sex.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We know there would be kinks to negotiate.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toys to try.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe even a third party invited in.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I-love-you sex, and fuck-we’re-engaged sex.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Please-wear-your-cabaret-costume-home sex.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Patrick doesn’t need a list anymore.  Not for this anyway, because he knows deep in his soul, it’s always just gonna be David, David, David all the way down.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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